Scenario (7 MC's Mix)

[Intro: Busta Rhymes]

Here in 1992, we present the fabulous What's The Scenario remix

Whereas, there are seven MC's

Six which are in physical form, one which is in spiritual essence

And he goes by the name of, uh... HOOD!

[Verse 1: Kid Hood]

Check your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (Shiittt!)

I lick buckshots, Hood, madman, I rip up stages

Lay down your wages, I'm wild like Larry Davis

Extra! Extra! Pick up a clip

I'll tear ass out the frame (Ha!), and grab my dick (Ohh!)

I'm a Rock'Em Sock'Em robot, kid, I drop bombs

I'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the petty

I baseball bat a bastard, I'm bad news

I'm crazy and clever, cut throats of crews

Death on the phono, my skills are porno

You say "Oh, no!," you bitch-ass homo

I bag up waste, electrifyin', I'm prime-time

I slaughter slime, I'm the greatest of all time

Sick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga

Pump slugs in your face, and dump that ass in the river

Two tears in a bucket, fuck it! Kick the can

(Say what?! Say what?!) I'm a bad, bad man!

[Verse 2: Phife Dawg]

Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lip

Punchin' out hits like Gladys Knight and The Pips

The Five-Foot Assassin has just raided your area

Your booty rhymes are wack, and that's the reason I ain't hearin' ya

(So!) Roll out the red carpet 'cause I'm gettin' this

Vanilla Ice platinum? That shit's ridiculous

Excuse my French, but profanity is all I knew

And to you other sellouts — oh yeah, F you too

And let it be known, I'm not the one to step to

You're better off callin' D-Nice to your rescue

Freestyle fanatic, probably the best around

As for corny MC's, like Chuck D, I Shut 'Em Down

The Artical Don of hip-hop, and I won't stop

The Five-Foot Assassin has come to wreck 'nuff shop

So do like Michael Jackson and "Remember the Time"

(Do you remember?)

Put on your dancin' shoes or somethin', 'cause you sure can't rhyme

[Verse 3: Cut Monitor Milo]

(Big up! Big up!) Enter new identity

Next to say somethin' 'cause you pass it to me

What does it take to check a technique? (Many styles, many styles!)

Hostile heat brings bursts of energy

Milo In De Dance is the new identity

One-two mic check

Select for the ruffnecks that tend to wander, I come (Correct!)

In my cyphers on blocks, I bring box to connect with knots

So I can grow dreadlocks

Maintain the rock! (Don't stop the rock!)

Maintain the rock! (Don't stop the rock!)

Kickin' right inna your what's it not

I could rock longer, but fair is fair

So C. Brown, are we in the clear? (Yeahhh!)

C. Brown, are we in the clear? (Yeahhh!)

[Verse 4: Charlie Brown]

Makin' moves, y'all (Moves, y'all!) On and on and on

(Check it, check it out!!) To the break of, break of dawn

(Who's that?!) Just one of the L.O.N.S

And A Tribe Called Quest (East Coast!) to West

Remix mad kick, more than Metallica

To all MC's fall like the Battlestar Galactica

Stampin', stompin', rompin' Compton

(People all over the world!) I'm promptin' (Style!)

Pick a style, any style, Strong Isle

Representation, sensationalization

"Scenario" for the radio, 'BLS and KISS, so

(Here we go, yo!) Yeaaah!

Force, Main Source LP on the rise

In livin' color, let's see through original eyes

And I'm out like shout, ooh-ahh, ooh-ahh!

(Ooh-ahh, ooh-ahh!) There it is, baby pah!

[Verse 5: Dinco D]

Flyin' in on a limb, slim trim, D I am

There I am (There I am!) Don't run from a grim

Sike! We be right, be polite for my mics

Like I'm like (See sick! See syke!)

And slip away, and off to the Poconos

Spot picked the clothes, hype swing the pretty pose

Yamaha (Ay-Ha-May!)

Let's flip the funk, now it all spells (Hey!)

Enough, enough, Ms. Fitted, I'm wit' it

If I did it, I was blitted, and probably shouldn't have quit it

'Cause yo, my vocal status at Knight's like the Gladys

Bed rest, spread test, and yo, I'm like the maddest

Male, not female, hail from Uniondale

Bounce the b-ball, 'cause beats are bein' yelled

In the hallways, always ringin' with a (Ho!)

This is my two-times-nine on the Scenario

[Verse 6: Q-Tip]

Check it out, everybody — rhymes and mics

Black mens gettin' loot (Doin' what they like!)

Eight black brothers in the public eye

If you listen very close, I will tell you why

(Hood!) Phife, Milo, Dinco and C. Brown

Shaheed, myself, and Busta Bust Down

Will commence to rock (Rock!), so bring on the flocks (Flock!)

Interrogation for the knockin' of the box

The boom-box ruler controls the medulla

None come cooler, I win like Shula

So bust out the move as you start to pursue her

Intensified mind, non-blunt consumer

Tip will come booty (Well, it's only a rumor!)

The meaning's so deep that it starts brain tumors (Tumors!)

Peace to Hood, baby, from the midnight crooner

Smoke 'em up later, if not then sooner

[Verse 7: Busta Rhymes]

Hey! What we gon' do (Dooo) in '92?

Even though we had fun (Fuuun) in '91

Wonderful my days, herb dream comin' down

Ponna ponna! New sound leavin' cracks in the ground

What's goin' on, my man? Goddamn! And now my brain is hurtin'

Listen up — Busta, rhythm will hit 'em then I get 'em

Flip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit on 'em, then I will sit on 'em

Open up your mouth if you want the food

To get rude, Flipmode, 'cause I'm in the mood

Ah-heh, ah-heh! Yeah, man, that's how it goes

Body drippin' with blood comin' out your nose

Give me a Band-Aid, what are you askin' for?

(More!) Only your sacred and pure

Adverse, Zig-Zag, check it and the Busta new rap

Rap, Busta Rhymes, or bust this wicked rhymes

Yeah y'all, in '92, I'm packin' my roach spray (Anyway!)

Take a lick, Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School

Mad brother when stealthy

RRRAAAOW! RRAOW! RRAOW!

To my dragon, baby, stop whinin'

I see my influence still shinin'

More crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yo

That's the Scenario!